Uliuli Iwi
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Kiyi is sick and both Zuko and Ursa are doing everything to help her, but none of their efforts have any affect. With nowhere else to turn, Zuko decides to give Ember Island's mystic, Azula, a try.
1. Advice From The Commons

A gust of wind rattles through the bungalow, setting various handmade dream catchers and trinkets into sways and spins. Shells and beads clicking together, adding to the sound of waves crashing against sand. Another more powerful gust sends the thatched bamboo and palm fond roof swooshing. Azula can taste the sea salt in the air. And the scent of fish and seaweed wafting through the spacious dwelling—the odor had bothered her for the longest time, but she has since grown accustom to it. She crosses the threshold, onto the balcony and—from the spaces between lush palms and jungle ferns—takes in the ocean side view. She makes out two familiar figures trotting along the shoreline. A little boy and his Water Tribe father. The boy holds something out to the man, likely a shell or a turtle. She looks away from the scene to check on one of the spices she'd been working on and then approaches her low-resting table to retrieve her mortar and pestle. Azula leans against the balcony railing and continues crushing and grinding the herbal contents in the mortar. The breeze rustles her hair and flutters the feathers woven into her bangs.

She watches Khao preform some skillful waterbending tricks. He mostly toys with the sea foam, building it into various shapes ranging from octopi to koi fish.

She brings her water jade pendant to her lips.

 **.oOo.**

Ursa grabs Kiyi's hand.

Weeks have passed and still the fever doesn't break.

The child calls out helplessly. Ursa watches just as powerlessly. Zuko is raking his hands through his hair trying to figure out who he should send his next messenger hawk too. They'd been sent off to the most prestigious herbalists, apothecaries, and Water Tribe healers. He and Ursa had brought Kiyi to them and had, had them come to him. Helping her is growing ever more difficult now that journeys to the doctors are becoming harder on Kiyi. Zuko has paid the traveling fees just to get doctors to come check her out and say that they don't know what to do.

Phe-Fang—who still sits vexed (at both his own inability and the waste of his time) on a plush cushion near the window—is the most recent medical mishap. He held Kiyi's little arm in his hand for only two minutes before declaring that the child was a lost cause. "She sweats like three are upon us and cries like the tormented souls of the Spirit World. What would you have me do that the others have not tried?"

Zuko himself grows indignant at the lack of empathy and effort displayed by the so-called esteemed doctor Phe-Fang.

"What would I have you do?" He finally explodes. "Maybe, put some work in! Real work! Actually try!" He lets out something between a grumble and a growl and runs his fingers agitatedly through his bangs. "My sister is dying and you," He looks around the room at the palace physicians, " _none of you_." He pauses, "are helping."

Ursa leaves Kiyi's side for the first time in days, to put a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "They're doing their best."

"How can you say that? Is _he_ doing his best?!" Zuko thumbs in Phe-Fang's direction. He runs his hand down his face and sighs. "I'm sorry I snapped at you…" he is too tired to elaborate. It doesn't matter, he recognizes the look of understanding that crosses Ursa's face. She is just as agitated as he is, if not, more so. She is simply better at masking it.

"I don't know what to do?" Zuko finally speaks again. He can't fight his frustrated tears anymore. "I don't know who else to try."

"How about your friends? The Avatar? That Katara girl, you said that she brought the Avatar back from the dead with spirit water?"

It is a pretty suggestion. But he had already thought of that. He had written to Katara about it and she had tried her best. But even after every service she'd done for the world, she was still denied access to anymore Spirit Oasis water under the guise that she was lucky to have had possession of it once. And that if they kept handing it out people would beg for it until the oasis was sucked dry. That's what her letter had disclosed anyhow. Thinking about it has Zuko's blood boiling all over again. He understands, truly he does, but he still feels outraged that they can't make an exception for him. For the Firelord. For the man who helped the _Avatar_.

"I've tried asking her. She said she's on her way to the Fire Nation."

"But…" Ursa prompted.

"She isn't sure if she can do anything either." Zuko says. He sits down at Kiyi's side and takes her hand. She is asleep and he doesn't want to wake her, with things as they are, the girl doesn't get much sleep. She is usually roused awake by an ache in her belly, a scratch in her throat, or a pounding in her head. It hurts to look at her. Even in sleep she seems pained. Her face is pale and drenched in fever sweat. Her hair is messy and somehow dull. She is painfully thin and it tears Zuko apart.

He feels completely and utterly helpless.

"Go for a walk Zuko." Ursa prompts. "Get some fresh air, clear your head."

This time he doesn't put up a protest, if for no other reason than to ease Ursa's stress. He turns back and says, "you take a walk of your own when I get back."

Ursa nods. She can use the break as well.

 **.oOo.**

As Zuko treks the street, he is met with imploring voices and hushed whispers. By now most people have gotten wind of Kiyi's condition in some way or another—be it chatty doctors themselves or a simple observation of the amount of physicians clamoring about the palace grounds.

"Is your sister doing any better?"

"Is she going to be okay?"

"How bad is it?"

He deflects or ignores the questions entirely.

"I hear that it's contagious." The gossiping man backs away as Zuko draws near.

"No one's ever seen it before so it must be dangerous." Whispers another.

Zuko ignores this too.

More people scuttle back, deterred by the first man's speculation. His agitation builds. _This walk was a bad idea_ , he thinks.

He feels a tug on his sleeve. A timid girl looks up at him, puzzling over what to say. He waits, when she doesn't begin he quirks an eyebrow, "can I help you."

"Actually, I can help you." The commoner averts her eyes, fearing that she had overstepped some kind of boundary. "What I mean is… I've heard of someone."

Zuko cocks his head. To his surprise the girl picks up on his cue.

"My grandmother was very ill for a long time. We tried everything, from healers to…"

"Scientists." Zuko finishes, "so have we."

The girl nods. "But you haven't tried the mystics yet have you?"

Zuko sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, unaware that he'd just caused the girl's cheeks to glow a bright red. "We—" He hates to admit it, "got desperate enough to try one." Now he is blushing. "But he was a sham, he just blabbered some kind of chant and burned some sagewood."

"Well Uliuli Iwi is different. She saved my grandmother a few months ago, and my brother when he was just a babe." She looked up at Zuko. "You must give Uliuli Iwi a try."

"Uliuli Iwi." He tries the name on his tongue. "Who is this Uliuli Iwi exactly?"

"She's the shaman of Ember Island."

He tries the name again, "Uliuli Iwi."


	2. A Path of Bead and Shell

**Kay, so holy crap, this is probably the longest chapter I've ever written.**

 **BlueLion: Thank you, I'm glad that you're enjoying the concept so far.**

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Zuko carries the last of his belongings aboard the ship and watches Ursa carry Kiyi up the steps. Kiyi barely moves, she breaths shallowly and labored. Katara squeezes his arm, and apologize for a second time that Sokka, Aang, and Toph can't be there to support him too. When Ursa catches up to him he begins to walk with her across the deck in silence. The sailors raise the anchors and they depart. He watches the waves lap against the boat as they pick up speed.

"She's going to be okay, Zuko. I don't know how, but I know that she will be." Katara takes his hand.

Kiyi lets out a sharp yelp and puts a hand on her head. Katara bends some water out of the ocean, purifies it, and holds it at the girl's temples until she goes lax again. Zuko can't help but grimace; why is it that only he is unable to help her. Ursa's lullaby's even sooth her, where Zuko's voice cannot.

"So how are we going to find this Uliuli anyways?" Katara asks. Now that her water is gone, Ursa is back to rocking Kiyi on her lap.

"Word of the mouth I guess." Zuko replies. All he has to go on is what the commoner girl had told him. That Uliuli Iwi resides on eastern Ember Island and that he'll know the place when he sees it. He wishes that she hadn't been so mysterious. But for some reason, whenever there's any talk of any kind about shamans, there's always a shroud of mystery.

Katara offers her own advice, "look in houses by the beach, most healers like to have a good supply of water."

"Most healers are waterbenders." He wants to say. "A fire mystic isn't going to have much use for it." But he bites his tongue, he knows that he only thinks this out of irritation. Instead he just says, "yeah, maybe." He looks at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. Katara tries to make small talk, but he doesn't have the energy to contribute, so eventually she trails off and watches the waves spray by.

The sun hangs low and a few stars are already announcing themselves, twinkling overhead, by the time Ember Island is in view. He can see the rocky rims and palm dotted trunks of volcanos that have lay dormant for decades. The ashy shore approaches quickly. When the boat finally makes port, night has fully fallen. He sees fire pits and touches aglow all across the town. Though quite late, the town is alive with festivity. Mostly rollover activity from daytime parties that have yet to disperse.

They are far from his vacation home so instead of asking around for this mysterious Uliuli Iwi, they are forced to scope out a vacant inn. Eventually they come across a place, it's small but it will suffice. Zuko tucks Kyi in and tells her a story. He can't tell if she is can hear him or not through her fever delirium. But he keeps speaking until his eyelids grow heavy and he can speak no more. He falls asleep near Kiyi. And despite his stresses, he's able to do it restfully.

"Just stay and watch Kiyi until I find Uliuli." Zuko commands. The argument ensued as soon as he woke up. The first thing he heard that morning was Katara talking about how far it could be for _them_ to walk. There was no way that he would let Kiyi go anywhere and someone had to stay with her. He was going alone.

"But Zuko." Katara begins to protest.

"My mother needs to watch Kiyi and if Kiyi needs soothing, you need to be there." Zuko deflects. "I can find her on my own, Ember Island isn't _that_ big."

"I could use the help." Ursa gives a warm smile. "Kiyi doesn't like to be alone, so while I cook she can use your company."

Katara looks over to Zuko. "Alright, fine, but if anything goes wrong, please come and get us as soon as you can.

Zuko can't foresee any problems other than getting lost. He kisses Kiyi on the cheek, "don't worry you'll have help very soon." He leaves the hotel and takes to the streets. He breaths in the salty sent of island morning air. He looks to the left and right for someone who seems approachable. All of the faces he sees, look friendly enough. So he picks a man about his age and inquires, "how much do you know about the mystic Uliuli Iwi?"

"I know _of_ her." The man says. "My cousin Riki knows her. She works as a fruit vendor a little way down the road, if you'd like to talk to her. Tell her Tiango sent you."

"Thank you." Zuko nods. He follows the road, taking in its many spectacles. A man sells ornate wooden sculptures and coconuts with drawings etched into them. A male and female duo partake in some kind of island fire dance. And just passed a small shop with a colorful sign reading, 'Riki's Fruits and Fauna', are a group of street performers putting on a play. Realizing what he had just passed, he reverses his direction and stands in a sizable line to talk to Riki. It moves painfully slow, apparently this Riki is a chatter. At last he stands before her.

"Hello! What can I get for you? Today's special is mango and banana juice with a spray of passionfruit." Riki greets.

He's curious and tempted and eventually gives in. He might as well give her some cash in exchange for the information. "I'll take one but I'm not here for fruit."

She turns around and blends a few fruits, topping the coconut cup with a small hibiscus. "Hibiscus is on the house."

Zuko reaches for his beverage.

"Ah, ah! Not done!" She snatches it out of his reach.

"Your cousin, Tiango told me that you can help me. I'm looking for a woman named, Uliuli Iwi."

Riki's face brightens. "Uli! Yeah, I know Uli. She's wonderful. I was hit with a wild case of Dragonpox," she shivers, "but Uli gave me this ointment that fixed it right away." She begins mashing another mango. "A few years ago, there was a plague in this town. A lot of people…" she trails off. "I was so close to dying too, and no one knew how to help. We'd all given up at that point. And then Uli came to our village with odd potions and remedies. They worked on most people, but not me. I went away with Uli up into the mountains where you can practically touch the sea and the sky. She burned incense to and called on the spirits for power. They must have given it to her because a few days later the sickness left. I stayed with her until I was strong enough to walk again and then she took me home." She drops the beverage into Zuko's hand. "I named very first after her."

"She's really important to you, isn't she?" Zuko asked.

"I visit her every summer solstice and take her to the summer solstice festival." Riki claps her hands together.

"Where can I find her?" Zuko asks.

Riki looks at the growing line. "She lives on the mountain conjoined with the volcano. Her house faces the sunset. You'll know you're on the right track when you pass the waterfall and see the beads."

Zuko tips her another coin and hurries off, ignoring the annoyed grumbles of other customers.

 **.oOo.**

A trail of hibiscus and firelily perfumes the air as Zuko treks the mountain side. He almost regrets not bringing Katara along. She would have been a lot of help with navigating the jungle. He follows a rugged handmade trail, pushing fern and palm fronds aside. He is thankful for the sun dimming canopy which keeps the heat from making his journey that much harder. The jungle around him is alive with hog monkey yaps and various bird calls. It is strangely serene, he almost wouldn't mind getting lost. A bug whizzes past. It is harder for him to enjoy the lush greenery around him though, when he feels so breathless from such a long hike. He finally reaches the base of the mountain and considers himself lucky that the ancients—likely earthbenders had taken the time to carve a path up it. He has never seen anything quite like this path that resembled a cave with a missing wall. Aside from some vines and weeds, the rocks are void of green. His hand touches a blanket of moss. He beams from ear to ear at the sound of rushing water. He is on the right track!

It is under the falls when he learns what Riki meant by 'beads'. He was dreading the walk under the falls since he set foot in the jungle—it would be undoubtedly perilous. He's heard tales of journeymen slipping and careening over rocky ledges. He doesn't wish to become one of them. But as he draws nearer to the falls he notices a railing. The rocks are just as slippery as he feared, but he had a wooden railing to take hold of. He thanks the ancients a twelfth time for carving stairs into the mountain and thanks the more modern folk for installing the railing. He is now behind the falls, staring at the most crystalline and pure water he's ever seen. Various classes of fungi, in many sizes and colors, cling to the mountain wall behind him and some splotches of agley hang from the wood. He is careful not to get a handful of it. He is half way to the exit when he spots them. A string of beads tied to a hook that is wedged into a crack in the stones. Teal, red brown, and green. He touches each bead. And now he sees them everywhere as he continues up and around the mountainside. They hang in trees and on the railing. In fronds and around rocks. Some of clams and shells in the mix. From this height he can see the ocean and the silhouette of a bungalow against the sun. But he is nowhere near the top of the mountain. He realizes that the house rests on a natural bridge of sorts; a spacious column that connects the mountain to the volcano. On this stretch of the mountain the trees grow abundantly and various flora flourish. He spots a banana tree just in front of the bungalow. He has two options, he can go to the house or he can continue his hike up the mountain, where the cave-like path continues. A little way ahead the rocks jut out into a series of inviting hot springs hot springs, layered one on top of the other, creating their own small waterfalls. All over these walls he can see childish drawings. He almost wants to keep going up, but his choice is obvious. He came here for Uliuli Iwi.

He sets foot on what he considers to be her yard. It must be, for the gardening is magnificent and those strings of bead and shell are everywhere. He reaches out and touches a dream catcher that is carefully tied onto a low reaching palm. As he draws closer to the door the path leading up to the house becomes spotted with glittering gems and polished rocks. He finds it hard to believe that this woman would just leave them out in the open like that. He gives the bamboo door a few knocks and waits, listening to the soothing tolls of a few wind chimes. He spots them and decides that they must be handmade.

He tries knocking again, and still no one answers. But the door falls slightly ajar. It has been unlocked this whole time. He wonders if he should just go in. After another round of knocking and waiting, he enters. The dwelling is spacious and breezy. He realizes with fascination that the walls of the house are practically just huge windows. He inspects the place more closely and realizes that there are in fact walls but the widows take up most of them on the ocean side—and they are all open, leading out to a huge balcony. He hears rustling and clicking and looks up to find more dream catchers and strings of beads all over the wooden rafters on the ceiling. The clicking noise comes from strings of small polished jade knocking against each other. There are a few wind chimes scattered among them as well as some strands of blue lace, and some other swishing ornaments that he can't identify. He is so completely mesmerized that he doesn't notice Uliuli Iwi.

She Iwi sits cross legged on one of the many colorful woven mats. She stares at them intensely with bright gold eyes, her head slightly cocked so that her bangs and the beads strung into them fall into her face. For a moment Zuko thinks she is going to stand, but instead she crosses her arms over her chest. This motion draws his attention is drawn to the many accessories on her arms. On her right wrist she wears a bracelet of shell and bead, and what appears to be a crab claw. Intertwined with that one is a feathery bracelet. Golden bangles rest heavy on her left wrist. He follows the length of her arm and finds another bangle on her bicep. He has seen this one before. These though, aren't her most intriguing pieces of jewelry. What captivates him are her earrings. The first he notices is a cuff-style earring that clings onto the bone near the top of her ear; three eel shark teeth bound to a chip of coconut. He lowers his stare to see a gaping hole in her left ear. It isn't unsettlingly wide, but he believes that he can fit his smallest coin into it. He has never seen such an oddity. Her right ear is much the same, but she has fit another larger eel shark tooth into it.

Zuko assesses that he should probably stop starring. But he can't bring himself to do so; he hasn't seen anything like her before. Her face is decorated with white dots and horizontal lines. The dots are painted mostly under her eyes—three each. But there are a few near her ears, one at the bottom of her chin, and one at her right brow. Her forehead and lips bare two parallel vertical lines—two running from her hair line to where her nose begins, and the other two running from the top of her lips to the dot on her chin. Zuko believes that he can make out a pair of horizontal lines painted over her cheeks. Coupled with those earrings, she looks to him like something out of an ancient tribal painting.

Uliuli seems unphased by his gaze and he wonders if she is used to people starring or if most people are accustomed to her physical appearance and her style of dress. Or lack thereof—she wears only a beaded loincloth. She could easily cover up by undoing her pony tail and letting her thick black hair fall over her breasts, but modesty seems lost on her. Part of him is glad for it; if she covered up he wouldn't have gotten to see the intricate markings all over her body. Most of them are simply a series of more lines identical to the ones on her face, these take up her arms, legs, and stomach. At her right hip, collar, and on her chest it becomes more complex. Her hip depicts what seems to be a brown outline of what looks like an erupting volcano. Her collarbone sports a similar brown outline, but this time of a crashing wave against a rock. A few birds rest above that. He doesn't look for too long at her chest because it doesn't feel right to do so, but somehow he feels that she doesn't care. The markings on her chest display the outlines of a sort of ritual; three silhouetted women with feathers in their hair standing around a fire, their hands in the air. One holds a staff of some sort. Beneath them are a series of runes as well as the insignias of the four elements.

He can't tell if these are composed of paint or a mural of tattoos. Something tells him that they are tattoos. He want to reach out to touch her arm and find out if the markings will come away with his fingers. He keeps his hands to himself. He doesn't know what to say, because the strange woman before him—looking exactly the same and completely different all at once—is his sister.

As always, she speaks first. He thinks that she going to berate him for coming into the house without waiting for an answer. Instead she says, "you're desperate, aren't you?"

He can't tell if she's asking because he's standing before her as a mystic or because he's standing before her in general. Her gaze grows heavier on him as she waits for him to talk. And just as when they were children, he struggles to string them together. "Kiyi has been sick for a while…"

"Naturally." Her expression remains stoic.

"I know, I know, 'I wouldn't be here if she wasn't'." He fills in.

"Your words." She shrugs.

Zuko opens up his mouth to speak but this time she fills in his words for him, "but I have nowhere else to turn." Disturbingly he can't detect even the slightest hint of bitterness or satisfaction from her, the statement was just as impassive as the others.

"A commoner told me about you. A girl—bright red hair—"

"Onha." Azula declares. "I know her family well."

She waits for him to continue his request but he doesn't know how to tell her what needs fixing. He hasn't yet figured it out. So he just asks instead, "c-can you _save_ her?" He holds out a palm full of glittering coins. "There's more, a lot more. You know there is."

"Generous." She pushes his hand away.

He knows now that her words had been bitter. "I'm offering you this much and you still refuse to help me!?"

"You're mistaken." Azula says.

"Mistaken?"

"I seldom charge for my services." Azula replies. "I don't really have any use for coins anyhow these days. I mostly deal in food and trinkets—things I find fascinating." She motions to a shelf of knickknacks; weirdly shaped and colored shells, deep-ocean rocks, pearls, and handmade sculptures among other things. She repositions the string of shells she has tied around her ankle, "if you want my help you will fix me something to eat and find me a nice rock or something, like everyone else."

Zuko tucks his coins back into his pocket.

With her face tilted towards the ceiling and a snobbish look on her face, she waved him off. "Go on them, get to it."

This is a game to her, he realizes. Perhaps not on principle, but she's making one of it.


	3. Fish Bones and Fire Lily

Zuko decides that this will be his opportunity to alleviate his curiosity and ascend higher into the mountains. If he is being honest with himself, he should get back to Kiyi, Ursa, and Katara and let them know that he's alright. But he can't seem to shovel away his wanderlust. And besides, he'd never make it back down the mountain before nightfall. Ideally Uliuli—Azula, he corrected, would show mercy and let him sleep under her roof, safe from the tigerapes and leapordlizzards. As he climbs higher up the mountainside, he finds it harder and harder to understand how his sister can possibly be the selfless and caring Uliuli Iwi that Riki and so many others boasted about. He stops for a moment at the hot springs and peers briefly into their churning waters. He hopes that he might find some treasure hidden there but then realizes that Azula probably uses these springs often. So he makes his way up the ancient staircase. About halfway up he notices a cave, he ignites a small fire in his palm and cautiously enters. He is greeted with a musky, earthy smell. Maybe he can uncover something in here that would strike Azula's fancy. He scans the walls for glittering gems and the damp floor for bones of some mysterious creature. All he can seem to find are tiny, useless, fishbones. He hears a rhythmic drip drop from somewhere within the cave and wonders if it is even safe to be exploring there. But he ventures deeper in anyhow and begins to deeply regret it at the sight of mist creeping along the floor. He has heard from vagabonds and explorers that caves have their own weather, but he never thought to agree with them. Not until that moment. With a nervous tingling in his belly he presses forward, whatever treasure lie in here, Azula would be sure to apricate. But he still he comes across none, not even a simple geode. His feet splash into small puddles, soaking his socks, and making him shudder. He begins to vex Azula all over again for the minor inconvenience. A small colony of flutterbats chirp and squeak above his head as if telling him to get lost and leave them and their cave alone. He considers trying to catch one of them; maybe Azula would accept a pet flutterbat as payment.

He spends a few moments leaping up and trying the catch the flutterbats as they swoop down, just low enough for him to brush his fingers against their wings. He grumbles as yet another one swishes out of his reach. It would seem that the flutterbats are also playing games with him, tired of being a player (and wasting time), he wanders deeper still into the cave. At last he finds the source of the dripping. Months of condensation and the aftermaths of rainfall form small pools in the cave. He bursts his small flame into something bigger and realizes that can go no further, for the cave comes to a dead end. A dead end with a beautiful pool of water that seemed to be completely untouched by man. He peers into it, fantasizing about pearls and old-world trinkets. But all he comes upon are cave-shells and seaweed. He decides to bottle some of the water just in case he needed it on the way up. He didn't notice the large glob of seaweed that contaminated the mix until he was well out of the cave and on his way up.

He grumbles to himself upon first noticing what looked like a greenish yellow glob in his drink. He loses his thirst and continues up until he can't manage to go any further. He doesn't know how long it has been, but it must have been hours because the sun is getting lower in the sky. He knows he is running out of time and he still has to make it back down the mountain. He comes across a boulder with fascinating runes etched into its face, but he knows that it is to heavy to carry all the way down the mountain so he has to bypass this too. Growing frustrated he kicks a smaller rock and sits down upon the stump of a palm tree. "What am I doing out here!?" He shouts to no one. Kiyi is sick and he's wasting both his time and hers. He gets up to go back the way he came when he spies a peculiar mound of dirt. Putting no more time to waste he begins digging. Another hour seems to slip passed and finally he unearths something. Two somethings, and both seem like items well worth Azula's time.

It is well passed dark when he reaches Azula's home. The deck, balcony, and path leading up to the bungalow itself are ablaze with many torches. He is thankful for this, he might have passed it right by if not for the strangely welcoming light. He steps inside, this time Azula is not there. He has more waiting to do. Of course it really makes no difference anyways considering his plan to stay the night.

"Oh, you're finally back." Azula yawns. "Well that took a while." This time, to his relief, she has herself dressed in clothing he could best compare to what he'd seen the Sun Warriors wearing so long ago. She sits herself down across the floor from him. Before he even gets a word out, a brawny Water Tribesman and a child invite themselves in.

"Who are they?" Zuko asks as they seem to make themselves at home.

"Never mind that." Azula waves his question off. "I might tell you some time. First show me what you have to offer."

Thankful that she's getting directly to the point this time, he pulls out his find. In his palm, he holds a fossil—of what he can't be certain but he guesses its some kind of cave-hopper. He also withdraws a small gemstone crafted in the shape of a firelily. Trapped beneath its amber exterior is what looks like sprinkles of ruby.

Azula plucks them up one by one and studies his finds. "Very extravagant. Pointlessly extravagant." She finds a home for it on her shelf anyhow.

At first Zuko wants to put up a fuss and tell her just how aggravated this whole endeavor has made him. But before he can explode he realizes at last that this truly _wasn't_ just another game for her, it was he who had overthought things. _I mostly deal in trinkets_ , he recalls her saying. "You would have taken the fishbones, wouldn't you?"

"They would have made nice decorations for a dreamcatcher or something like that." Azula confirms.

"What about this?" He holds up the contaminated spring water.

"Not that." Azula replies.

He grumbles to himself in disbelief. All of that work, and she would have taken the fishbones! Deep into his irritated thoughts, he almost didn't realize that Azula had taken his water.

"Actually." She murmurs more to herself than to him. "This might be useful after all."

"So, where can I sleep?" Zuko puts the question out. He eyes a few futons.

She observes his glance. "Technically I reserve those for my clients. But I suppose, since there's no one around, you can take one for the night."

He finds himself growing suspicious at her generosity, especially since he could swear that they ended their last encounter on a bitter note. But it doesn't show on her face, nor in her actions. He decides to take a chance, and stick to his initial plan. For once he felt safer with her than he would taking a chance at night mountain climbing. He would wake up tomorrow and reluctantly introduce Kiyi to her best shot a healing.


	4. To Bite A Healing Hand

**Adrimore: Not gonna lie this is one of my more far-fetched AU's in terms of altering the character's appearance. For better or worse, I basically threw island aesthetic in there lol. I'm glad you like it anyhow though. :D**

 **BlackDragonFish: Thank you. ^_^ Yeah, I'm fond of the idea of her being with a waterbender.**

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Zuko has a harder time getting up the mountain than last time. Trying to look out for both his mother and Kiyi while keeping to the right path has been a task, even with the amount of help Katara is giving him. He knew Katara's presence alone was going to complicate things, to the point where he contemplated not bringing her at all. But he also knew that he had to if he was going to get himself and his family up the mountainside in one piece. Ursa follows behind him with Kiyi held to her chest, every so often he checks over his shoulder to see if the pair is faring well. Ursa looks tired and drained but presses upwards anyhow. He bites his lip, he still hasn't told any of the three what Uliuli's real name is. He can't seem figure out when would be an appropriate time to tell them. He wonders if he should tell them at all; he can't afford to turn around now. "Promise that you'll trust me on this?" He repeats again.

Once again Katara and Ursa agree. As the hot springs come into view, he hopes that they are as desperate to help Kiyi as he is. He comes to a stop. "There's something that I need to tell you."

"Zuko." Katara starts.

"Before you meet Uliuli." He asserts.

.oOo.

This time when he arrives at the mountain home, Azula is waiting for him. He sees her sitting on the veranda before he even reaches the hot springs. He is even more relived that he had told Katara and Ursa of her first, that would have caught him really off guard. She sits on the steps lazily toying with one of her trinkets, from this distance he can't make out what exactly it is.

He realizes with a hint of dread that he hadn't warned her that he was bringing their mother along—or Katara for that matter, he had simply told her about Kiyi. He can't tell what she thinks as they approach her, but she holds her stare.

"You didn't bring the whole team?" She asks immediately when Zuko comes within earshot.

"They couldn't make it, so it's just Katara this time." He replies.

"That's a shame, I was hoping to see the blind one. She always seems to have something interesting to say." Azula shrugs and looks at the child in Ursa's arms. "Hurry up and bring her inside the mosquito-moths are swarming today."

She holds the door open for them. The first thing Zuko notices upon entry is that the Water Tribesman and his boy are not present. He is about to ask when Azula instructs Ursa to lay Kiyi on one of the beds. She takes Kiyi's hand in hers, inspecting it for—he didn't know what.

"Don't you need me to tell you what's been going on with her?" Zuko asks.

Azula purses her lips and takes up Kiyi's other hand. "Not necessary."

"Not necessary?" Zuko practically shouts. "You need to know the symptoms to—"

"I can see them just fine, Zu-Zu." Vexingly enough, her tone is still level. There's nothing patronizing nor antagonizing about it, but still his temper feels roused. She lifts up Kiyi's shirt to inspect the skin beneath and her brows furrow at the yellow and red patches and bumps that display themselves on the girl's torso.

Azula touches a finger to one of the lumps just below Kiyi's rib cage. Her face scrunches up in either puzzlement, revulsion, or both. Zuko wonders what could evoke such a reaction in her. But before he can, Azula pushes down a little more firmly and Kiyi lets out a scream.

"Be gentle with her." Ursa scolds.

"I know mother!" Azula snaps.

"You're hurting her. She's hurting her, Zuko." There's a frantic edge to her voice.

" _I'm_ not hurting her…" Azula mutters.

Katara finally comes to stand by Kiyi's side, drawing a cool stream of water from her waterskin. She holds it to the bump until Azula abruptly hollers, "don't!"

"Don't do that, you're making it worse."

"Worse?" Katara questions.

"You're not just soothing Kiyi. You're soothing them too." Azula replies.

"Them?" Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. "We're doing _this_ again?" It finally strikes him that he made a mistake coming here.

"What's that supposed to mean." Azula stands up.

"I think you know what I mean." Zuko knows he is tugging at raw wounds.

"Well we're not doing _that_ again." She spat. "They're real."

"Who is real?"

"Parasites. I don't know where she picked them up but they're there and they're getting bigger." Azula replies. "And you keep nourishing them." She looks pointedly at Katara. He can feel it in her tone now, she is growing irritated. But she is back at Kiyi's side anyhow and he sees his mother go pale.

"You better not hurt her." Zuko scowls.

"I'm trying to save her, just like you asked me to do. As long as I can help, why do you care how I do it?"

"Because she's my _sister_ , and I don't want to see her in anymore pain than I have to. Not that you would know—I never really cared if you got hurt." He adds a laugh to drive the point in, knowing very well that he was lying. He cared, he always did. But he adds, "I don't think I ever will." He notices Azula flinch and for once he can see the look of hurt in her eyes—its fleeting and is gone before he can double check, but he knows what he saw. And yet he continues. "Maybe you don't know what it's like to have someone, besides yourself, to protect. But I do. Maybe you have no idea what it's like to have a real family. But, because of Kiyi, I do!" Regret hits him immediately. He looks over at Kiyi, certain that he has blown his last chance of saving her.

Instead, she turns her back to him and without so much as a glance behind her, coldly demands him to hand her the jar of spring seaweed that he had found the night before and a potent smelling stick of incense.

When she turns around and leans over Kiyi her hair falls over her shoulders, partially revealing her back. Zuko can now see more markings on her back. His chest tightens at what he sees. It is hard to tell beneath the remaining tresses, but he makes out a tattoo of three figures—a family.


	5. Fooling The Sick And Desperate

**Everyone who just reviewed: Thanks lol. Maybe I overdid it with his outbursts? But I'm glad it made the story that much more intense. Don't worry, he'll chill.**

* * *

 _4 Years Ago._

 _The waves rush to meet the shore. As they recede, they take and handful of shells, rocks, and small sea animals unfortunate enough to have been resting too close. A lonely figure makes her way over the sand. The beach is unusually quiet. No splashing children nor scolding adults. No sunbathing teens nor picnicking families. Only one other person sits on the beach. She is crying out to the sea, asking it why it has taken her daughter. Her wrinkled hands are raised towards the sky as if the clouds will rain down the answers that the sea doesn't wash up._

 _With nothing to really offer, the stranger walks passed the mournful elder._

 _For a moment, she listens as the breeze whispers through the palm trees and across the barren beach. She heads into town, intent on buying new shoes. She had been traveling without for quite some time now and her feet are growing anguished. She fears infection among other things._

 _The stranger walks through the village as a mere observer. Though the village is dismally quiet too. A few people are out and about trying to sell fruit or handmade jewelry. But other than that, the place is dead quiet. Azula doesn't like it. It reminds her of the village she'd just left. The village she'd called home._

 _She knows this kind of silence well._

 _It is the silence of a plague town._

 _Only the daring come out and make noise. Only those who have a death wish or are already sick walk the streets. She looks at the woman selling jewelry…or the desperate._

 _Azula clutches the warding charm around her neck. The one she had found some time ago in a hidden place heavy with spiritual energy. She hadn't been able to find that place again. The charm has kept her safe from disease all this time. She stares at the helpless faces in the windows. The blanks stares of those who have lost all hope. She decides that this is where she must stay. She finds a small inn with a rickety sign. 'Vacant: at your risk' and just below that reads, 'village cleansing and prayer ceremony: sundown'. She notes that time down in her mind and pushes the door open. The man at the front desk is quiet. "One room." Azula requests. The man seems to look right through her. But with absent movements he hands her a room key. "How much?" Azula asks. All he does is shake his head and she knows that his time is coming to an end._

 _Without another word, she looks at the number etched into the key and finds the corresponding room. She takes a look around. The place is a tight squeeze, but she didn't have many possessions to fit in anyhow. Morbidly, she wonders if any people had died on that bed. She sets her pack down; a sleeping bag, some food, a waterskin, box of herbal remedies she had collected and mixed on the road, and a messy looking handmade bracelet. She brings the bracelet to her lips as she so often does. She carefully puts it back among her other things._

 _She witnessed death again that night._

 _She attended the ceremony after a somewhat long and taxing trip to a river some miles from the village—even with her sprit charm she couldn't bring herself to chance washing her clothes in the village's own river. For all she knew, it was the source of whatever illness she had yet to see._

 _She admitted to herself that she felt out of place among these people who knew each other so well. Once again, she sees herself as only a silent observer. She sits on a log by a growing bonfire. Mothers and fathers cling to each other and to their children, as if keeping such a close-knit embrace would leave no room for sickness to get in between._

 _The woman Azula can only assume is the village chief stands before everyone and thanks them for coming out. She encourages the people to keep faith and to be strong. The ritual begins and a team of mystics emerge. They dance around the fire chanting—this is how she knows that they are con-artists, taking advantage of an entire village during low times. Their chants are nonsense and have nothing to do with the spirits at all, she figures they probably made up that gibberish entirely. But she says nothing, the only thing keeping these people together his blind hope. To unveil the truth now would tear the village apart. She would show them a real mage._

 _She watches the offensive display reach its climax. This is where the healing is supposed to happen. But in a cruelly poetic display one of the village woman begins seizing violently. She cries out to her husband, before she is completely consumed by sickness. She sweats terribly and blood trickles from her ears and her mouth. Azula clenches her charm, she knows now that she will need its full enchantment. The woman lets out a piercing final scream accompanied by a grotesque tearing noise and then it cuts off. Azula swallows down a breath she didn't even realize she was holding._

 _Apparently, the woman and her family hadn't been hugging each other tight enough, for the illness got in, stole a life, and made a clean get away._

 _"What a horrible way to go." Azula thinks to herself._

 _The ceremony comes to an abrupt end. People back away and flee to the safety of their homes. The more sympathetic of them nod sorrowfully in the man and child's direction. The shamans scowled and scattered, realizing that this particular scam was much too risky. She knew in that moment, exactly who had already lost a loved one. For those were the only people who remained and helped the boy and his father close the woman's eyes and wrap her body up. But their stares are blank too and even they don't offer condolences. It is up to them now, to honor her in death and burn her remains._

 _Death has become so common here, people can no longer be bothered with formal, cultural burials._

 _Azula can't help but cringe. She has seen this before as well._

 _She walks up to the reduced family. She knows that they acknowledge her presence, but neither look up. In a lifetime that seemed so distant now, she would have scoffed at their poor manners and proclaimed that 'you could always leave it to the waterbenders to be so discourteous. Instead she puts a hand on the shoulder of the boy. "I can't do much now." She breaks the quiet. "But I can help you honor her properly. How do you do it here? A feast? A candle lighting?"_

 _"We paint the face red and cloak them in white. We write down our favorite memory of them and tuck the scroll under their arms so they do not forget who they are in the life after. After that we hum them a traditional song to show their soul off happily." The man replies. "You cannot write a memory down for a person you've never known."_

 _"You underestimate how little time it takes to create a memory." Azula replies. On a scroll, she is already writing what she has seen. "You said the memory must help them remember who they are…" She holds out her scroll—in it she talks of a woman strong in nature with love and fight in her eyes, a woman who didn't let go until the very end._

 _The man nods respectfully. "Thank you…"_

 _She doesn't give him a name to fill in. It is easier that way—when she leaves the village he won't have a name to miss, eventually the face will fade. He will be spared more heartbreak._

 _"My boy. Kho-Nhm, he doesn't talk much, but he apricates your gesture."_

 _"I want to help your village." Azula says. "To give you real help. Not…whatever that was."_

 _"How can you do that?" He asks._

 _She shows him her charm. "I've been teaching myself to make remedies. Trial and error, of course. I've cured a few vagabonds and journeymen. I also know how to call the spirits."_

 _"So did they."_

 _So, he saw through the lies too. She had to respect his skeptism._

 _"I suppose you'll just have to give me a chance then. The worst that can happen is another sense of false hope to keep your village together, yes?"_

 _He looks her in the eye. "You are not like them. I can tell. At the very least, you truly believe that you can call upon the spirits. They know they cannot, and yet they claim to anyhow." He picks Kho-Nhm up._

 _Azula doesn't know how she should interpret that._

 _"Come back to my hut if you will, my son and I don't want to honor Waituba alone." He says. "You can stay with us until you rid our village of the disease."_

 _She drops the key off and gathers her belongings before joining them in their home. They treat her well and tell stories of Waituba and her fiery nature. The man is absolutely convinced that his wife's attitude was what happened when you cross Fire Nation and Water Tribe blood. She finds out through these stories that his name is Kurlok. He passes around Waituba's favorite dishes and asks if Azula is a firebender—the final step in the ceremony would be much easier that way._

 _"I am." Azula answers. This time she doesn't need to disguise her flames. She knows she is far enough from home for the brilliant blue hue to go unrecognized._

 _"I put my faith in the right place." She hears the man mutter. He has come to the right conclusion, but for the wrong reason. She doesn't correct him, she will give him a real reason to trust her healing abilities when the time comes._

 _They bow to the body and scatter her ashes amid the sand in their yard._

 _Kho-Nhm yawns, a solid reminder to both she and Kurlok that it has grown late. The night, however, isn't done with Kurlok. His son's legs wobble and he pitches to the left. Azula catches him before he can meet the sand. When his eyes reach hers, they are dazed and confused. She can't bring herself to look back at Kurlok._

 _"Daddy, my head hurts."_


	6. A Grey Washed Sky

**Oh boy, sorry it's been so long! I've been a bit busy, but I am going to finish this fic, dammit! Thanks for being patient with me.**

* * *

Zuko stares at the tattoo for a moment longer. One of the figures—the mother—holds a little bundle to her chest. He realizes that it must be a baby. He watches Azula position the incense on a table, ear-level with Kiyi. She still doesn't turn around when she says to Zuko, "I will try this the easy, less efficient way first." She makes a point of emphasizing 'less efficient'. "If it doesn't work we will do it the hard way and the hard way can be painful." The edge in her voice is gone, but deep down he knows his jabs are still itching in her mind. She takes the seaweed and smears it over the lump of flesh that the largest parasite hides under. She smears more of it on the girl's neck and arms where she speculates that more of them lurk. "This particular parasite—if I have the right one," she makes a point of reminding Zuko that just cutting the skin and removing it while it's in view would make things a lot clearer. "Doesn't like the seaweed. The moisture from that spring that the seaweed soaks in, is toxic to the parasites. Once Kiyi's skin absorbs that same moisture it should weaken and try to flee." She pauses. "This parasite is attracted to smoke, so the incense should draw it out." Again, she makes no promises that she even has the right parasite, "so many of them have the same shape."

"You're not breaking skin unless you have to." Zuko sticks to his stance.

Azula scowls inwardly, careful not to let it show on her face. His strong desire to not cause inflict pain not only prologs the pain, but supplies it with enough time to intensify. She can't fathom his lack of logic. "You're too emotionally driven."

"And you have no compassion whatsoever." Zuko shoots back.

"You can't afford 'compassion' when situations are critical."

"You can do a good job and be compassionate at the same time." Katara argues.

Ursa remains rigid and quiet, but Azula detects her mistrust. It ebbs off of her has the smoke rolls off of the incense stick.

"If you don't like what I'm doing then you can either leave Kiyi alone with me and go home or you can find someone else to help her. _Or_ you can quite down and let me do things as I like to do them." Azula offers. "Personally, I'm a fan of one of the first two options."

"Are your bedside manners always this good?" Katara bites sarcastically.

"Only when my clients are this trusting and easy to work with." Azula replies with just as much spite.

"We're not going anywhere." Zuko holds his own.

"Then we do things my way." Azula declares. "Which means, if this doesn't work, we cut the most noticeable parasite out and work from there." She sees Zuko cringe. Before he can protest her any further the she hears the door open and excuses herself to go get it.

When her son flings himself into her arms, she immediately feels guilty for not making more time for him. Zuko and her mother have been keeping her so busy. She savors the feeling of his small body pressed against her. She holds him until he wriggles free and darts off to enjoy his toys. She watches him go and wraps her arms around her husband. "They're being difficult." She murmurs into his chest.

"Then make them leave." He puts one arm around her.

She sighs, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I haven't turned anyone away yet…" Azula trails off.

"And the other thing?" He prompts. When she doesn't reply he concludes, "you know them."

"Unfortunately. I tried to be patient, but he is aggravating."

"They are family." It is not a question, he knows. "My brother was a handful." He follows her back into the other room.

Kiyi stirs looking terribly uncomfortable. "This isn't working, I can tell." She says to her husband in a hushed tone. "But they _insist_ that we waste my time and Kiyi's."

Her husband runs a hand over her hair, "let them, they'll see what's right soon enough." He squeezes her arm and goes off to check on their son.

"It doesn't bother them that we've been here for so long?" Ursa has the decency to ask.

"They're used to it." Azula sits herself down by Kiyi. "Most of my clients either stay here for days or go and return frequently for days." She explains. Looking at Kiyi's torso she can see the source of her discomfort. The parasite is getting aggravated by the seaweed, but is too stubborn to abandon host. So instead it squirms around, making an irritant of itself. She wipes the seaweed away.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asks.

"As I thought, this isn't going to work." She is quick to note, "this way is causing her pain too."

"So there is no easy way to do it then?" Zuko asks.

"With parasites, there seldom is." She shrugs, taking pleasure in her correctness.

Once again Zuko finds himself vexed at her lack of insults. Somehow, he wants her to rub it in his face. But she doesn't, she simply says it how it is. So he tries to coax it out of her, "aren't you going to tell me about how you were right and I was wrong?"

"Clearly, you are already aware."

Still he can't detect the bitter tone from earlier. She already let it go. And he realizes why this troubles him. It is because he realizes that he is the aggressor this time. And her lack of hostility makes his look painfully obvious. She is holding back on him, he deduces, she either doesn't have the energy to fight back or simply doesn't want to. Something in him picked up on it and decided to use it to get under her skin—to make her hurt. Perhaps he wants vengeance for all that she has put him through. Especially now that she has given him an opening.

Whatever resentment she had for him is gone, only to come back when he instigates it. Yet he is still can't seem to let the past go. His stomach churns as he realizes that this is the other reason that her calmness incenses him. The other reason for which he keeps prodding her. She is free, free of the past and he is not.

He knows he needs to let go too. He wants to try, but at the same time he doesn't.

The tribesman appears in the room again. "Tomorrow I will be off on a fishing trip with Hoto. He is having trouble getting a good catch and it is catching up to his family."

Azula nods. "What time?"

"I will be gone before you wake and back before you sleep again."

"Papa, I want to come with!" Calls the boy.

"First I have to teach you to fish." The Tribesman ruffles his hair. Zuko can't help but smile, the kid is lucky to have a father that would humor him. He looks at the tattoo on Azula's back again and wonders if they are the family—her family. He is almost certain of it.

Azula is back by Kiyi, this time with a small blade. Both Ursa and Katara immediately turn away. It takes a second, but Zuko follows in suite. The incision Azula makes is small and remotely thing—just wide enough for her to pluck the parasite out. The lack of a response from Kiyi makes Azula uneasy. It's never a good sign when the patient goes numb. She places the worm-like creature in a jar. "I'll have a list of what we need ready for tomorrow." She says to Zuko.

.oOo.

Zuko listens quietly as Azula lists off an onslaught of medicinal ingredients. He has no idea how they are going to find them all. He looks up at the sunrise, opting to focus in on its vibrant golds and deep blues. A mild breeze, stirs his hair, rustling his bangs out of place. He hears Azula's wind chimes clicking against one another and the shells on her bracelet creating softer mimicry of it. She doesn't seem bothered by the small gusts, every so often she tucks her bangs back behind her ears as he quickly fights to keep his out of his eyes.

"We'll also need to find a red-backed crabspider. It's venom is potent so we'll find it last." Azula finishes. "I suppose I'll do the actually catching of it, just let me know if any of you sees one."

Zuko absently nods in agreement. That is, until he realizes what she had just said. "And what's the spider for!?" Zuko asks.

"It needs to bite Kiyi. The parasites will detect it and realize that she is no longer a safe host." Azula explains.

"You said that it's a venomous spider. It could kill Kiyi too." Katara protests for Zuko.

"Yes, that's why we are going to gather the items to make the cure." Azula responds.

"I thought that those items were the cure."

"For the parasites, no. For the venom, yes. The _spider_ is the cure."

"This is…this is…" he tries to find a better word this time around, but his mouth speaks faster than his brain. "This is crazy."

"It's her only chance." Azula argues. "You've let these worms inhabit her body for too long. She'll be dead before the less risky methods even start kicking in."

Again Zuko slips up, "you have no idea what it's like to do this." He takes a step closer to her. "You never had to hurt someone you love to save them, have you? You never held that person and wondered if you'd ever talk to them again. If you did then you wouldn't be in such a hurry to get it done the fast way." He pauses to catch his breath. "You only became a mystic so people will have to rely on you again. So you can control people." He adds.

" _You_ have no idea. You don't know why I became a mystic!" Azula snaps. "Now," she looks skyward, "let hurry up and find the _ingredients_ we need before the storm hits. It's going to hit hard." There is a certain edge to her voice. He is sure that the conversation is over. He is also certain that she does know what it's to worry if she'd ever talk to a loved one again. He sees the concern in her eyes as she looks from the sky—which, in that short span of time, dulled to a hazy grey-blue—to a coastline that is growing choppier by the hour.

She slings her carrying pouch over her shoulder and starts into the jungle. Zuko walks alongside her, with Katara and Ursa keeping trailing a few feet behind. Azula mutters, "you have absolutely no clue." And he realizes that the discussion would be continuing after all.


	7. Going Out In A Shower Of Sparks

**I figured since it's been so long, I'd give everyone a double chapter upload. Just to make everything clear, this chapter takes place _before_ the first flashback in chapter 5.**

 **Crapshak50: You'll have to let me know if your prediction is right, when the answer is revealed. ;)**

* * *

 _5 years ago._

 _The village is growing sleepy and calm. From her window, Azula watches it all. People finish final rounds of whatever games they play in the streets. She hears laughter and cheerful hollers as one team wins one of the games. Glasses click together in one last toast. Slowly, one by one, people begin snuffing their torches and waving their guests off—completely unaware that some of them probably wouldn't be lit ever again._

 _She wants to, but she can't join them. Once upon a time, she had spent time with total strangers, crashing parties that she hadn't even realized she was invited to. But that is over. She is infected._

 _And it won't be long until everyone else was too._

 _Day in and day out she watches as less people take to the streets. It was subtle at first—Yoon-Ri stopped attending letting her boys race their pet turtleducks with the other kids. Rouvir stopped hosting his weekend parties. Eventually she stops staring. But even without looking, she senses that it had gotten worse—she could no longer hear any form of festivity. The town sinks into a state of decay and ominous quiet. She is no longer lonely in being alone._

 _Once welcoming neighbors who had always left their doors ajar now have them locked tight and bored up. These people, she realizes, still have their heath and fear losing it. But Azula knows the truth, she knows that the virus will find out how to slip through the cracks in the wall and sprout through the loose floorboards._

 _Somehow, she blames herself for bringing the virus here. Though she couldn't have known. Minrohc was a good man but, in retrospect, a really stupid one too. She had met him at one of the parties during her first month in town, a year prior. A few parties later they were together. Their romance was as fast and fleeting as Azula's lightning. Passionate and powerful but over in a dramatic flash._

 _But not before she could have his baby._

 _Being what the town was, the child's birth (and her overall pregnancy) was widely celebrated. The town would take any excuse to drink and party, and Azula—with Minrohc's help—had offered them one. Though Azula was rather disappointed in herself for being with child so young, the town's people had no judgement to pass. She was convinced that teen pregnancy was remotely common among a group with such loose rules and such strong energy. At least she was in her twenties. At least Minrohc put a ring on her finger during the third month of her pregnancy—they were to marry a month before the baby's birth. But she still hadn't been exactly prepared either._

 _Even so, their marriage went flawlessly. She and Minrohc, were the only two that hadn't drank that night—Azula because she had been so heavy with child, and Minrohc because he didn't want her to be the only one left out of that aspect of the night. She can still recall the loving touch of his left hand on her belly, and his right cupping her cheek, holding it steady so he could bring his lips to hers. She loved him truly, and with a heart she hadn't realized she had until it was right in front of her._

 _The baby, Tamzu, finally revealed herself on the hottest August evening. She and Minrohc slipped away from the party early that night, to put the babe to sleep and spend some time alone. She recalls Minrohc unpinning her hair and letting it fall over her shoulders. She recalls leaning into him and him sliding his hands down her sides to her hips. She recalled letting the night go from there and feeling his loving lips on her forehead. The whole time, he was whispering, "I love you" in a foreign, ancient tongue._

 _He was a fool._

 _He was a fool because he knew but he continued._

 _And she was a fool as well for not realizing._

 _Minrohc had picked up the virus from somewhere deep in the jungle and had carried it for months as inconspicuously as her pregnancy had been showingly. He mentioned it not even once. The disease was a slow burner and didn't even make a spectacle of itself until Tamzu was of two months in age. And when it did the virus was violent and merciless with fits of coughing, bleeding, and vomiting. "You cough until you feel your throat open." Minrohc had said. "After that you start coughing up blood and you know that it has." That was one of the things that had drawn her to him; his ability to skip the bullshit and say things as they were. But this time she didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to know how much pain he was in. She didn't want to know what was going to happen to her—not when she couldn't do anything about it anyways._

 _She thought about it constantly. About how many people she had shared drinks or food with since having sex with Minrohc that night. About how many people she had unknowingly killed. Minrohc died a few days after the town's new year's celebration and she was quarantined quickly afterwards, alongside a few people known to have been in contact with her. Surprisingly they showed no resentment, wishing her luck and recovered health. With Minroch the town was split down the middle; some mourned his loss and other scoffed, saying that he had it coming for deceiving everyone (including his wife). All of them offered her sympathies anyhow._

 _Azula now realizes with dread, that the virus must be evolving. For it now claims people much quicker. Hansu's boy contracted the virus only a week ago and she already sees his body being cremated. She on the other hand still coughs up blood as the virus rots her away._

 _She takes Tamzu into her arms and weeps. Weeps for the loss of Minrohc—that asshole—and for what she had done to what was once such a lively town. She weeps for her own dying body and for the infant she holds._

 _No doubt, the child is sick too. Either Tamzu starved to death, unable to care for herself, or Azula risks infecting her while feeding her. Neither option pleasures Azula, but at least one way would allow her to love the child, however briefly._

 _She can't gauge how much time has passed, but it has been a while she knows. There is a knock on her door. Somehow, she pulls herself up and stumbles her way over to the door, weak and clumsy with fatigue. She pries the door open and stares—it has been so long since she'd talked to another human being, that she can't seem to remember how to do it._

 _"Most of us are sick." Says the man. With his sunken cheeks and hollow eyes, she almost can't recognize Rouvir. "We figured that we should tell you that you might as well," he makes a wheezed snickering sound, "join the living."_

 _She has apricate his ability to maintain humor, however morbid it may be. With Tamzu held closely to her chest, she follows him outside._

 _"We haven't had a town gathering in a while, but Chief Ling-Huo suggested a meeting with some healers from the Water Tribe."_

 _Azula attends but between the throbbing in her head and the itching in her throat combined with the way the sun assaults her eyes she can't focus on the mages nor her concerned neighbors that try to offer her words of comfort. Their words only pain her throbbing head. Rouvir rubs her back in small circles, trying to ease her suffering. He only steps back when she motions for him to do so, so that she can hand him Tamzu and double over in another coughing fit. By the end of it there is a considerably sized puddle of blood where she had just been hunched over. The tops of her hands are splashed with droplets. She takes Tamzu back and pretends like it hadn't happened. The town's folk and, especially, the healers are content to do the same._

 _She can't help but notice that the healers avoid her with a purpose and only tend to those who look the least sickly. She can't blame them. She knows that, a few years back, she'd be scowling in disgust at people like her and calling for their erasure before they could infect the capital._

 _She hears Tamzu make a gurgling baby noise and musters up a smile. She holds that smile until she realizes that the gurgle isn't the product of baby-speak. She can only watch as her baby drowns from within, the virus has filled her lungs._

 _Azula doesn't know how long she's been sitting there. She is deeply bothered, but somehow can't find the will to cry. She is numb and most people brush passed her, not having the words to say. She notices that even Rouvir has gone. Hansu casts Azula a forlorn look of understanding, but that's the only attention that was paid to her. Azula realizes now that they probably are angry with her for bringing this upon them and had only invited her out of courtesy and/or because of the fond memories they had made with her. The ones that they can't seem to let go of even now._

 _She falls to the sand and curls herself into a ball with Tamzu pressed against her chest. She feels blood as it trickles out of her mouth. But it's alright, she's ready for the virus to take her. She doesn't move until a few town's people lift her off of the sand and take her home. She doesn't leave the spot they set her down on, until she is ready to leave the village._

 _For the days she had watched out the widow, she noticed the town transforming before her eyes. People started coming out again. Rouvir, with his gaunt face and unruly beard began hosting parties again. The teens began drinking until they fell over again. Hansu and her remaining children began hosting kuei ball tournaments, again, with the friends they had left and some new kids they were forced to meet. The food smelled heavenly and the chatter upbeat. That's how she knew the village was done for._

 _Azula had counted six days of parties before now. Tonight's party is the wildest yet. It is in full swing. And cruelly enough, she feels well enough to get up and join them. So, she does. As the party finally beings to wind down, she gets up and goes outside. But she does it in secret, speaking to no one, knowing that there is no point. She's lucky she didn't, unbeknownst to her at the time, the sickness had left her—slightly ravaged—but left no less. If she had stayed, it would have riddled her body again._

 _In one final breath, the dying village tossed fireworks into the air. In the light of those firey bursts, Azula headed north._


	8. And The Sea Takes Back What She Had Gave

**Raijinfairy: She was sick the whole time and it finally took her.**

 **Guest: Good to hear, I was hoping for a fresh take on her character. I'm glad you're enjoying it.**

* * *

 _Kurlok grips Kho-Nhm's hand with a purpose, it is as if he believed that if he held on tight enough, he could cling onto the boy's lifeforce too._

 _"I'll fix him." Azula says. She's lying again, she knows. Lying and making promises she isn't sure that she can keep are two sides of the same coin. She almost feels as if the latter of the two is worse—at least lying offers no sense of false hope._

 _Deep down she feels like she can him though, save the whole town too. She only hopes that what she has learned in her travels will be enough. Combined with the spirit energy collected in her pendant, it has to be. If it doesn't have the power, than the boy and everyone else will be lost._

 _Just like her Tamzu._

.oOo.

Thunder rumbles faintly in the distance and they haven't even left the mountain side yet. Azula has sent Katara and Ursa to collect a few herbs form her own garden. To Zuko's dismay, she instructs him to follow her a little way up the mountain to retrieve some sort of cave flower and a moss that grows on the higher portions of the mountain. He doesn't fancy following her, but knows that she will not make the journey up the mountainside without him, so he follows reluctantly. They make the accent entirely in silence and enter the cave with a quiet to match its own. Without so much as igniting a flicker, Azula goes deeper into the cave. He stands in the mouth and listens to her scuffle around and before he can light up a fire of his own, she emerges with a flower in hand. He wonders just how many times she had navigated this cave. Offering him no cues, she brushes passed and heads upwards, leaving him to assume that he is supposed to follow. Once again he is taken aback by just how verdant and striking the mountainside is, even in the foreboding of a gathering storm. Distant lightning licks the sky and helps wash the mountain in new hazy hues. A few insects still chirp and buzz, filling the landscape with a calmer aura. As they climb ascend further, Zuko's steps become more cautious as the stairs grow more unruly and overrun by the jungle. Azula doesn't even offer him a 'watch your step' as he comes to a particularly wide crack.

Finally they come to a place where the slop juts out into a fair sized tier. Hanging from it is a variety of vines, fungi, and mosses. Instead of climbing over this path obstruction, they come to a halt. This is where Azula begins her search. She picks her way through the moss silently, trying to find the healthiest looking patch. That's when it comes out.

"You seem to know a lot about me don't you, Zu-Zu? So why don't you tell me exactly why I became a mystic. Who am I controlling from up here and why am I doing it? Also, while you're at it, you can tell me who the Tribesman and his son are, since you know so well." Her delivery is calm but with a dangerous edge as she trails a finger over the mosses. He is afraid to speak, lest he get himself cut.

"Well?" She draws her finger away with a semi-dramatic flair.

"I—"

"You don't know." She fills in. "Exactly. So let me tell you." Once again she bares her back so that he can clearly make out the figures inked delicately on it. Indeed, the mother figure holds a baby, but the baby is still and he can see a wispy entity hovering above it. "I had a child of my own once, Zu-Zu. She is dead."

His heart tugs at how bluntly she put it out there.

"Do you know why she is dead?"

He doesn't quite want to.

"She's dead because she was ill and I couldn't do anything about it. That's how her father died. That's how I should have died too. But for some reason I didn't. Every single person in that village was killed by a plague that _I_ spread because _I_ didn't detect it. Every single person but me." She stopped poking at the grass, her voice hitching on that last statement. "So I decided to save this village to make up for killing the last one. But it doesn't matter how many people wander into my little cottage…it doesn't matter how many people I save, nothing can atone killing your own child."

Her back is to him but he knows that she is crying. She won't turn around and parade her tears to him, of course, but she can't subdue or hide them either. Zuko wants to reach out to her, but he doesn't know how she'll react, so he remains where he stands, mentally kicking himself for cutting much deeper than he ever thought he could. "You couldn't have known that you were sick." He says finally.

"I should have." Azula replies, but he doesn't hear her over the sound of thunder echoing over the mountaintop. She finally finds a clump of moss that is to her satisfaction and stashes it away with the flower. Zuko watches her head back in the direction that they had come from.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles. "I didn't know. I wouldn't have said anything if—"

"Of course you wouldn't have. You'd never do anything to make yourself look bad. Especially not in front of mother."

Zuko cringes. "I wouldn't have said any of that regardless, if I knew exactly what it meant to you."

"Whatever makes you feel better, Zu-Zu." She shrugs. This time he knows the conversation is over, she probably didn't want to bring up her lost baby in the first place.

Even so, he knows that there's more to it than just that.

.oOo.

 _Night in and night out, Azula stirs and crushes different spices and herbs. Each person in her makeshift tent receives a different treatment. On a piece of parchment, she pens in who had received which remedy and which ones seemed to have an effect. All in all the task had taken some time and required the townsfolk to stop wallowing in their misery and do their part—helping her set up an adequate tent and actually making the commute to see her. So far her success rate has gone as far as either slowing the disease or simply reliving the pain or the symptoms._

 _She runs a hand through her hair, wracking her brain for another mixture. But for the life of her she can't come up with one. She is nearly certain she has tried everything this jungle and sea had to offer her. She stands up, thinking that there must be something she hasn't tried._

 _Azula looks around the small tent, peering into jars and vials of dried botanicals and natural liquids, rummaging through her belongings for older concoctions, and rifling through old scrolls of notes she had taken. Perhaps she is missing something. Something critical at that. Her hand absently strokes the charm around her neck, feeling the roughness of the glittering green crystals that rimmed an other-worldly glass-like material. Set within the glass lies crushed up springs of lavender and sage and a few sand-sized chunks of mineral._

 _Mineral…_

 _She has an idea. This whole time she has been working with plants. Perhaps adding mineral compounds would do the trick._

.oOo.

"I assume you two were able to find everything." Azula remarks.

"Yeah, it was no big deal." Katara replies.

"Your garden was very organized. Lovely as well, I enjoyed the lantanas." Ursa added. "I remember when you used to help me in the garden…"

Azula nods. "That was a long time ago." A long time ago before Ozai had decided that she was too good to dirty herself with such things. She wonders how different things would have been if she had stayed with her mother and tended to the royal garden instead. But it was a fleeting wonder, they have more pressing matters. "The rest of the ingredients will be in the jungle."

She hustles inside and arranges what they've already collected, neatly on the table. Ursa steals a peek at her younger daughter. "I'll stay with her. Someone needs to look after her. And the boy." She looks at Azula's son.

"He's perfectly capable of watching both himself and Kiyi, mother."

"I don't doubt that. But I'd like to get to know him and I know Kiyi would like me or Zuko to be here for her." Ursa answers.

"If that's what you want to do." Azula shrugs.

However, this minor debate has given Azula's son enough time to gather a pack and his nerves and declare that he is coming with them.

Azula looks skyward and sees a thick haze of bloated dark gray clouds. She can tell that they are ready to burst and spray their fury down at any moment. "You are going to stay right in here." As if to emphasize her point, the sky erupts into a low groaning rumble.

"But I'm 'perfectly capable'." He declares.

Azula sighs, she hates when he uses her own words against her. He has already picked up on way too many of her habits. "Capable of watching yourself and babysitting Kiyi—inside the house—while I'm gone."

He tugs his knapsack further up his shoulder. "I've studied your scrolls, I know what to look for."

"I already have your father out in this storm, I don't need you—"

Unlike most others he has the guts to interrupt. "I have my father out on the sea _and_ my mother going into the jungle in this storm. I want to do something important during a storm too!" He gives a little stomp.

Azula leans down and places firm hands on his shoulders, "you have no idea how bad this one is going to get." Her stare is locked in his, her voices as firm as her hold. "You will stay where I tell you to stay."

His lip quivers and she knows that her tone was too harsh. She hasn't made him cry in months and she planned on keeping it that way. But she also planned on keeping him out of harm's reach. All the same, he tears up. "Fine, you can come with us." Before he can rejoice and revel in his small victory she adds, "but you are staying as close to me as you can until we are standing back in this spot."

He nods and dashes across the lawn over to where Zuko stands.

"All we have left to find is a shadow lily, a handful of tadpole eggs, and the crabspider." Azula lists.

"I'm gonna find the spider!" Her son offers enthusiastically.

"I happen to know a pond where the tadpole eggs are plentiful this time of year." And after, she murmurs to her son, "you can find it. But I'll catch it."

He crosses his arms. The first fat droplet of rain splatters on his elbow, he looks up and half-frowns. The expression his not lost on Azula who takes it as an opportunity to say, "you can always go back inside if you don't like the rain."

"No way, I can handle a little water! My dad is from the Northern Water Tribe." He declares for Zuko and Katara to hear.

The next droplet falls and then another.

"We better speed this up." Azula frowns. She looks towards the coast, hopping that her husband has the same idea. The waters are rough as it is. "We'll collect the tadpole eggs first, since I know exactly where they are." She quickens her pace, hoping that Katara and Zuko can keep up. Her son is already paces ahead. "I told you to stay close to me."

He groans—low enough so that Azula can't hear him—and comes to a halt. "I'll meet you by the pond." He calls and darts away again.

"Should we—" Katara starts.

"Just let him go, it isn't too far." Azula gives in.

By the time they reach the pond it is raining in sheets. She can scarcely see her son through the wall of wet. She can see Zuko shivering behind her and must admit that this rain is an unpleasant kind of chilly. It is however, ideal for hunting down this breed of frog, the only problem will be actually catching the eggs before the current rushes them down stream. "You two look upstream," she takes her son's hand, "we'll look down stream." Azula steps closer to the churning water, squinting to see passed the ripples. She pinches the bridge of her nose, the turbulent conditions very clearly complicated things. At last she sees a cluster, but as she reaches out for them she feels her hair lift and thunder quakes the ground. She fast retracts her hand and fends off a zigzagging bolt. When she looks back into the water, her find has disappears. Her curses are dulled by another burst of thunder, leaving her boy to ask what she had said. "Nothing." She replies, tugging him away from the unsteady rock he had perched himself on. She sees Katara waving at her from a distance and sees her mouth moving, but cannot make out anything through the wind's fierce battlecries. She squints as she through the rain as she heaves forward, the wind working completely against her. She grasps her son's hand tighter. Before she comes within earshot—earshot being relative of course—of Katara, she can see a clump of eggs in her palms. For the first time since they arrived, Azula is thankful that Zuko had brought the waterbender along.

"Do red-backed crabspiders even come out in this weather?" Zuko shouts his question over the weeping of the sky.

"Seldom." Azula replies. "They usually burrow themselves in fallen coconuts."

"In other words, we're going to make a trip to the beach?" He asks.

Azula nods and, in no mood to strain her voice, shouts only one word. "Likely." She fancies the idea no more pleasant than he.

They troop deeper into the jungle where flora and fauna bloom more densely. Even with the jungle dulled to grey and significantly thick mist furling around their stems, the jungle blooms are vibrant. They display a flashy array of deep blues, passionate purples, and flame-like golds and oranges. Some having petals that fanned out and others that tier upwards and spoon-like. Those are Zuko's favorites. But right now their goal is to find a sapphire blue flower sprayed with tiny white speckles and a large white disk in the center, where the pollen collects. Unfortunately, the blossom's telltale white powder is erased by the rainfall.

Zuko reaches for a plum colored blossom with delicate green swirls coiling about the petals. Ursa would like it.

"No!" Azula swats his hand away. "That one is poisonous." It isn't deadly, but she doesn't wish to add rashes and blisters to their list of hindrances.

Naturally, the shadow lily has chosen to root itself right next to the hazard. With careful concentration and a steady, precise hand, Azula uproots the plant, it would have been a flawless execution had the wind not blown the neighboring blossom in the direction of her hand. The plum petal tickles her hand. She frowns and tucks the shadow lily safely away. She looks at her hand for a moment and hopes that she has some leftover ointment to make the itch more bearable as the rash heals itself. She dares to hope even further, that the rain had diluted the poisonous oils that the plant secrets.

"Why did you get to touch it?" Her son asks.

To his amusement she mumbles, "because only I'm allowed to suffer."

She hears Zuko snort and try to stifle a laugh.

This time she doesn't take her son's hand, lest she spread the rash to him. It takes some time but they make it passed the whipping, thrashing branches and through a particularly muddy spot where the pond's overflow rushes across. Azula can see the beach in full; waves thrice her height slam forcefully against the sand. She can see exactly where the raindrops beat the ground, decently sized pock marks act as battle scars all across the width of the beach.

She cringes.

Her husband is out there.

Or perhaps not, she hopes that he ended his trip early and is safe in their bungalow, or in Hoto's dwelling. Whatever the case is, she best not dwell on it—from such a distance she is powerless to do anything about it and opts to focus on that which she can control. She sees her boy teetering too close to the battering waves. "You're tempting the tides." She says sharply.

"The tides can't tell me what to do." He proclaims over their watery roar.

She can't help but chuckle before saying, "these tides can." She watches him back away.

Zuko and Katara have already busied themselves with peering into coconuts and flipping them over. From the looks of it, they are making little progress. She starts in the other direction and happens upon a crabspider surprisingly fast. She removes her jar and makes her way behind the coconut, out of the spider's line of sight. Carefully and swiftly, she covers the coconut's hole with the jar.

She is preoccupied with the task and isn't watching her boy. She looks up just in time to see the wave retract and his absence on the shore.

She is bounding down the sand before she even processes what she is doing. She sees the spider escape and lets it go, assuming that Katara or Zuko will retrieve it. Her body meets the water and instantly feels the bite of the frigid current as it mercilessly pulls her under. Her mind is whirring even faster than the ocean itself; she can't assist her husband, but she'd be dammed if she let the ocean take their son too. The water burns her eyes and the salt burns her throat. Most pressingly, her lungs are on fire too. How can she save her son if she can't even keep herself alive. She fights against the water with everything she has until her hand locks around his. But she is only strong enough to hold him tight to her. And she holds him as close as she can.

Before she has time to contemplate her fate, Azula finds herself being thrown against the land with a shocking force and winces as the sand scrapes her arm. Through her daze she can see Katara panting, nearly ready to collapse. She briefly wonders just how much effort it took to fight waves of that size. The thought is gone as soon as she feels how heavy her son lies atop her.

She pulls herself up and lays him down face up. She looks for the rise and fall of his chest, she sees it but it is accompanied by a wet gurgle. "No." She mutters. "No, no." She cups his head. "I don't want to lose you like Tamzu." Despite living so close to it, she knows next to nothing about the sea and how to remove it from a person's body.

She looks up at Katara with an uncharacteristic helpless and vulnerable demeanor. "Please don't let my son die."

.oOo.

 _The mineral mixture has saved some, but only those whom the illness had only been newly festering in. The ones who it has clung to for a long time are still on nature's death row and it is making quick executions. Azula grows frustrated. Maybe she needs to call it quits, it is becoming a very real possibility that no herbs nor minerals of this world can cure what the town's people have come to call, 'the convulsion cold'._

 _What she has discovered however, is that the sickness must have come from the sea, for the corpses that the town's folk neglected to cremate had begun sprouting hideous growths that resembled that of coral. She quickly rid of the body and advised the family not to mention it. She jots this information down on a scroll as well and morbidly ponders what could happen if the disease stopped waiting until the postmortem stage to reveal these growths. She shudders, determined to stop it before it can mutate to that level._

 _It's like the sea is punishing these people. She always did loath the sea and its foreboding vast emptiness. The thought looped back in her mind—what if the sea is punishing these people, she thinks. If such is the case maybe the answer is spiritual. Real spiritual, not ridiculous chanting and dancing around a fire. She removes the charm from around her neck and places it before her on the table, peering into its other-worldly glass. She takes in a deep breath only to have it interrupted by an abrupt presence._

 _Kurlok enters her tent with Kho-Nhm limp in his arms. She didn't strike the man as one to cry, all the same, he is weeping. "You promised to save him but…I think…" He takes in a shuddering breath._

 _Azula realizes that she is holding her own, and that her chest is constricting. She knows what he is going to say._

 _"I think he is dead. My son is dead."_


	9. The Catfish And The Cosmos

**So this is the last chapter everyone. Thanks so much for reading; even though this wasn't one of my more popular fics, I had to finish it because I really did enjoy writing this one. Of course all of your reviews and encouragement helped motivate me to really work on this one. And this ended up being the longest chapter I have typed for a fic yet.**

 **Crapshak50: xP Well let me know if you're correct after all.**

 **Guest: Ask and you shall receive. It's always great to hear that you guys enjoy my take on Azula. Especially since this one is pretty different from my other portrayals of her.**

* * *

Azula is motionless and rigid, her gaze fixed on her child. The sand aggravates the raw scrapes on her knees, but somehow she doesn't feel it. Her mind is numb to grief and rage. She hears the taunting roar of the relentless sea. The rain crashes brutally on her skin and she wonders if it has turned to hail. She clutches her boy's hand with a crushing force. She can't hold him to this Earth any more than she could Tamzu. She wants to go to the water's edge and kick it, slap it, toss heavy things into it, anything that resembled violating it. The sea has taken so much from her and she wants to deal it some damage in return.

She feels Zuko's hands on her shoulders as she watches Katara pull the sea back out of her boy, not expecting the waterbender to make any real progress. "That's all of it." She hears Katara. The pool of water sponging into the sand is a disconcerting amount. Azula watches it seep into the earth. Nothing happens, everything is quiet save for the torrent of rain. The last thing Azula wants is more water. Mentally, she hasn't the strength to keep herself upright anymore, and so she more or less flops to the sand on her side. The discomforts of wet sand plastering to her skin and hair are lost on her. She stares straight ahead at nothing until the sound of a few strangled coughs meet her ears. She drags herself up right and looks at her boy. He is also sitting up, trying to expel any remnants of ocean. Broken from her depressive haze, she hustles over to him and tugs him close reveling in the sound and feeling of his breathing against her ear. He sobs into her shoulder apologizing over and over again, for not heeding her words and getting too close to the water. She can't bring herself to say anything and settles for rubbing his back.

Zuko watches the display with butterflies in his stomach. It is unusual to see his sister looking so hopeless and then so tragically grateful…so visibly emotional. He can feel the tension leave her body all the same and he knows that her actions in the past few months have come from the selflessness of the heart she had found. He resents that it took her son almost drowning for him to see it. He feels the tension and unresolved issues leave himself too, claimed by the thrashing sea.

"I just wanted to help." He catches the child admit. "I saw the spider and I tried to get it."

Azula sighs, a sense of fatigue befalling her. "I told you to let me get it." She rests her head in the crook of his neck, her hair tickling his skin. She is neither angry nor sad. She isn't anything and so the statement doesn't particularly mean anything. It's just another thing of the past to be let go.

"Now we're never going to find one." Her boy adds.

"That's not true, there was one over there." She looks at the place she once stood. Her discarded jar lies there, smashed and useless. Some shards are picked up by the wind and hurled into the thickets. She bites her lip, hoping the spare jar hasn't also been shattered when she tossed it to the side. She sees no sign of the crabspider. "We'll find another one."

Though the clouds remain as gloomy and wrathful as they had been seconds ago. And though the rain still beats them with a vengeance, the storm is over.

.oOo.

 _Azula's mouth is dry. Even after giving it her everything, the boy seems like a lost cause. His body gives a small shudder in Kurlok's arms before going completely immobile. His father falls to his knees as a man who has just lost everything. The look and feeling ebbing off of him resonates deeply with Azula._

 _Azula moves with a purpose from her chair to Kurlok's side. Without asking, she tears Kho-Nhm from his arms and begins pressing down on his chest as she had seen it done before on other dead men and women. With luck, skill, and persistency, some of them came back._

 _But Kho-Nhm wasn't one of them. His death runs deeper than just a stopped heart._

 _But she isn't ready to surrender just yet. Not after making such bold promises. Not with the knowledge that so many people had faith in her abilities. Especially not knowing how highly Kurlok had grown to regard her—even more so than he had in the beginning._

 _She has never tired what she was about to try._

 _But the boy has nothing else to lose._

 _She hurries over to the pendant in her hand and rustles through her pack until she finds a sharp fox deer bone with natural swirls of blue running the length of it. She also gathers a few sticks of spiritual incense, a clump of sage, lavender powder and a few sleek blue-purple stones. All of which she had found in the same place as her warding charm._

 _But this time, a small crowd—the ones who the rumors of Kurlok's woes have reached, and a few who have merely intended to seek healing services—has gathered around the tent. She ignores the watchful eyes, she hasn't the time to worry about what they'd do if they see her fail. She places one stone on each of the boy's chakara points and sprinkles a circle of lavender around he and herself. At the north most corner of the lavender, she sets and incense stick. Followed by one for the south, east, and the west. She lights each in order. At the center, she ties the sage from the ceiling so that it hovers directly above the stone on Kho-Nhm's heart. Gripping her pendant like never before, she lights each of the sticks and the sage._

 _Azula admits inwardly that she is nervous, nearly downright fearful. She has never tried this before. The spirit world and its healing energies is meant only for the avatar. But Kho-Nhm and the village folk need it and she can't imagine that the jungle would have taught her to access it if it wasn't meant for her to know._

 _So she proceeds._

 _She sits next to Kho-Nhm, cross-legged, and closes her eyes. She inhales the smoke, letting it pleasantly scorch her nose and lungs. Breathing it in and out until she feels her body growing weightless and then away from her completely. And she knows that she is gone—severed from her mortal form._

 _When she opens her eyes, the world before her is vast and mystical. Mist wraps around her arms and seems to follow her wherever she moves._

 _Azula hasn't the faintest idea as to what she is supposed to do here._

.oOo.

Still feeling drained from fearing so intensely, it is a task for Azula to drag herself through the jungle. Their search of the beach has left them empty handed and forced to seek the spider out in the jungle again—she is thankful that the rain and the wind come down less ferociously. She feels Zuko's eyes observing her with a new intensity and she regrets losing herself as she had. Though she isn't about to argue with the new lack of hostility she feels from Katara. "Thank you." She brings herself to mutter, the words are foreign and strange on her tongue. She hasn't uttered them to anyone in quite some time.

Katara looks back at her, with a soft "hmm" at first not comprehending the statement. It finally registers and she replies, "oh, you're welcome." Azula doesn't think that she is going to continue. "I'm glad he's okay, for a second I thought…"

"Me too." Azula answers quietly.

They are quiet again. For once it has nothing to do with a heated argument. No, this time it is a solemn tension regarding what could have been. In this quiet Zuko finally musters up the courage to ask, "He's your son?" He knows the answer but he wants to hear it from her.

Azula nods.

"And the tribesman is your…"

"Husband, yes." Azula replies, once again holding Kho-Nhm to her. "They are my family." She brushes a hand over his sopping wet hair.

"I can tell." Zuko responds. "He is a lucky kid. Like you were"

"Maybe so." She considers. "I wouldn't call it luck. Luck implies that no work was put in, it just happened. He isn't lucky to be alive, he held out and we, rather Katara, made his efforts worthwhile." Azula pauses. "Just like Kiyi isn't going to get lucky. She is going to get help, that you worked for."

Zuko mulls the perspective over.

Azula feels her son wriggle out of her grasp, "I found one!" He points at a tree.

Despite it all, she is glad she let him come with, he has an eye for these things. A lot of the knickknacks in her home were dug up or noticed first by him. Azula takes out the spare jar, a jagged crack runs over its glass, but it should hold. Approaching the insect, the same way she had the first, she quickly brings the jar atop it. In a scooping motion, it falls to the bottom and she quickly caps the container.

.oOo.

The trip back up the mountain was as taxing and tedious as expected. Azula was thankful for the exhilaration brought about by the satisfaction of catching the crabspider. They reach the house at last. Azula's mood is damped again at the sight of the mess the storm has made of her yard. She and her family would have some serious cleaning to do. She is however pleased to see that the house itself was left undamaged—mostly due in part to the protection of the mountain. She is also gracious that Ursa had the sense to find and close every window within it.

They step inside and Azula gets directly to work. She leaves answering Ursa's motherly inquires to Zuko and Katara and allows her son to dramatically—and in an inaptly boastful manner—share the story of his near-death experience.

"Katara, start mixing these, if you will." She hands Katara the substances they had just collected and motions to a mortar and pestle. "Pick the petals off of the shadow lily and only use them. From the cave flower, only use the stem. The moss must be dried and then can go in whole." She instructs.

Katara nods and accepts the task.

Azula busies herself blending liquids from the plants Katara had collected from her garden. She mixes it with that of the spring water, "this needs to sit out for ten minutes before you can add the botanical powder."

"I'll keep time." Katara says.

Azula approaches Kiyi.

"Is it gonna hurt." The child asks weakly. She can't even find the strength to open her eyes passed a squint.

"Not terribly. But it is a risky procedure that involves a spider." Azula answers truthfully. Kiyi strikes her as the kind who would apricate the cold, hard facts.

"I ain't afraid of spiders."

"That's good to know." Azula replies. She takes the mortar from Katara and dumps what's within it, into the liquid mixture. She forcefully swirls it around. As she waits for it to settle she shakes the spider's jar, effectively pissing it off. She dumps it on to Kiyi who shifts uncomfortably. Zuko is biting his bottom lips so hard she is almost certain that it'll bleed. The spider makes its bite directly on one of the parasitic lumps and Kiyi yelps at its potent sting.

That parasite is at least certainly dead, Azula entertains herself with the thought. She lets some time pass before administering the cure.

But Kiyi looks weak and pale, her face somehow even more hollow looking. Azula's stomach knots and she hopes that she has made the right decision.

.oOo.

 _Azula wanders aimlessly through a meadow of unidentifiable, ghostly plants. The wisp around as if part of the mist themselves. She swears she can hear music, light and breathy and in a language she has never heard. It seems to come from one source, but in all directions. The night sky is open with an endless expanse, Azula is dizzied by the sheer number of stars splashed on it like diamond powder. Cutting right through the middle of the sky is a smoky cloud of space dust in striking blues and brilliant purples. The blue reminds her much of her fire, her reason for being here is almost forgotten. She looks away from the sky and heads for the forest, it is dark and oddly inviting. The mist curls its fingers and beckons her forward. She sees something slender with a white glow dash between the trees, she can just make out a pair of antlers. It is warm but a light snow begins to trickle to the ground, the chilly drops twinkle as they descend. It as if the sky is shaking down its stars for her. She wouldn't mind staying awhile. Amid the music she hears the tinkling of bells and wanders in that direction where she comes upon a stone structure. Statues of badger frog, lion turtle, flying boar, bull antelope, and rabaroo circle an area of the forest floor made of tile. At the center where a full silvery moon perfectly aligns its glittering ray is a tile much larger than any other with a lotus etched in. Surrounding the lotus is a depiction of the four main elements and the fifth—spirit._

 _Azula draws nearer and notices two figures—a boy and a baby koala sheep. The boy is cheerful, laughing and conversing with the animal. He asks if the koala sheep will play tag with him and before his eyes the animal stands on two legs and transforms into a little girl. The boy thinks nothing of it and darts out of the girl's reach, she gleefully takes up his challenge with a determined look on her face._

 _Azula steps even closer and observes the spirit children play. The little girl's long black hair flows free as she whips around a tree. Her golden eyes meet Azula's and her face is alight. She watches those lips grow into a smile that Azula has never seen before, but recognizes all the same. It is similar to her own. It leaves a raw, biting emotion. She feels the sorrow flutter in her belly and a fresh round of silent tears dampen her cheeks. The child is only tall enough to wrap her arms around Azula's legs. She bends down and takes the child in her arms. When the little girl looks up her eyes have the same spark that Azula's have. The princess smiles and kisses the top of the girl's head, savoring what she never thought she'd feel again, cherishing the sight that she thought she would never have the chance to see. "I love you." Azula whispers as the child nuzzles her head against her chest._

 _She recognizes the other child too._

 _"What are you doing here Uliuli?" Kho-Nhm asks, addressing her with the name he has taken to calling her after seeing the hue of her fire. The boy even had the other town's people using it._

 _"I came here to save you, Kho." Azula replies._

 _"Save me?" He asks._

 _"You are sick…were sick." Azula answers. Even in the spirit world she can see it on him. Where the other spirts in this place have a pure white or sky-blue radiance, his is weaker and tainted with dark red patches. He is not fully dead yet so the patches aren't clearing._

 _Another spirit appears behind her. It has no tangible form and switches constantly from an ever shifting mass of energy to that of some kind of animal or another. As it speaks to her it holds the form of a sleek, long koi fish. Set in its head is a jewel of the same make as Azula's warding charm. It contains the same mineral bits too. The fish circles her in the air, whispering in that same unknown language. The same mantra over and over again. It shifts into the form of a human for a moment and takes Azula by the hand, "say it," it whispers and repeats its mantra. It is a fish again—a catfish, she observes—and in place of a hand is a long barbel that coils around her wrist. This time as it repeats the phrase, Azula speaks with it. She feels a sense of power in whatever she had just muttered._

 _Holding the little girl with one hand, she places the other on Kho-Nhm's chest and, with the encouragement of the spirit fish, says it again. This time the power held within those words flows into Kho-Nhm's aura brightening it and buffing out the red blemishes. She says it again, the barbel around her wrist glows a blinding white as spirit energy ebbs from it to Azula and then to Kho-Nhm._

 _She is feeling dizzy now and grows more disoriented with every repetition, so she sets the little girl on the ground just in case she is to fall. She wonders if she is sacrificing her own life-force for the boy. But she keeps it up until she sees no more festering red in Kho-Nhm's aura. She is ready to collapse but it is a pleasant feeling—a cross between bliss and serenity. Somehow, she feels healed. Even so, her body crumples to the ground and she can't seem to open her eyes nor move. She feels a hand grab her right hand and a different, smaller hand grab her left._

 _She is tired._

 _She is okay with it._

 _It is better this way; Kurluk can reunite with his child and she with hers._

 _Azula smiles._

 _She is so tired._

 _She lets herself succumb to it._

 _And when she wakes up she is back in the world of the living, in Kurlok's arms. She can still feel the smaller body hugging her close and briefly recalls saying goodbye. She stares up at Kurlok, trying to regain focus. He gently strokes her hairline with his thumb. She thinks that she sees Kho-Nhm standing up, alive and well. So she pulls herself up. But Azula's body isn't quite ready for that yet and her head bobs and her body pitches to the side, still dazed and half-drunk on spirit energy._

 _But she can see him._

 _Kho-Nhm is well._

 _He is happy._

 _She had done it. She tries to smile but she is sure that it came out wrong and lopsided due to the dense fog in her brain. Kurlok holds her closer and she falls asleep again._

 _The next morning as she sits in his lap, Kurlok tells Azula that she was quite the spectacle and that the village people would probably be talking about her for some time. That what they witnessed bore a new hope in them. He tells her—and she doesn't know if she believes everything he is sharing with her—that after going into some kind of trance her body emitted a sort of radiance. That she had begun to mummer something and that it was in a vocal registry that he hadn't thought her capable of. As she had chanted her mantra her skin grew translucent for a moment and her bones looked blue as her fire. He shares that as her skin returned to its natural shade, that there remained a web of intricate horizontal lines and dots all over her body and on her face._

 _She looks at her hands and over the length of her body, seeing no hint of these markings. "You exaggerate." She accuses._

 _"Ask anyone. Even old Rukooni saw them, and her vision went blurry decades ago." Kurlok insists. He rubs Azula's biceps._

 _"If you say so." She rolls her eyes. They watch Kho-Nhm prod at the sand with a large piece of drift wood. She leans back and into Kurlok, taking in the balmy breeze as it kisses her exposed skin. She knows that she is in for a draining few days of intense healing. But the payoff will be incredible if successful._

 _It was a success in many ways. The people urged her to stay, offering to help her build a home in the mountains where she can overlook the sea and look over the villagers. Where, also, she would be close to all the jungle remedies she needed. She had helped them build it and during its construction she slept either in Kurlok's bed or with him in the foundations of her new home, gazing at the sky. After the house sat fully erect, each of the townsfolk presented Azula with a trinket or two to liven the space up. Kurlok had a gift of his own and placed it on her finger after the thank you/house warming party wound down._

 _She is home._

.oOo.

Kiyi has been sleeping for days and Azula feels the tension rising again, particularly from Zuko. She fidgets with the handmade bracelet that Minrohc had given her forever ago. "I really thought that this would work." Azula mumbles more to herself than anyone else. Her mood has been ever sinking since the spider bit into Kiyi. Not only does the child still sleep, but Kurlok still hasn't returned. Kho-Nhm grows restless and constantly asks where his father is.

For once Azula welcomes her mother's touch. "Kiyi will wake up and Kurlok will come home." Ursa reassures. Naturally, she has been acting as the voice of optimism this whole time, even when Katara's spirits seem to have fallen.

Kho-Nhm tucks worms in between their embrace and snuggles his head against Azula, "I want my dad back."

"Me too." Azula says quietly to him.

Zuko takes this as a good time to cradle Kiyi in his arms, and with a final comforting gesture, Ursa goes to join him. Katara stands halfway between both pairs, unsure of who to interact with. For a while the only sounds come from outside—the distant crash of waves, exotic bird calls, and the brush of palm fronds on the house. The sun pours brightly and unbefittingly into the dwelling.

One of the rays beams right over Kiyi's face. Her face crinkles and she moves her hand over her eyes with an annoyed hum. She shifts in Zuko's arms. His face brightens up to a degree Azula has never seen on him. He is grinning from ear to ear.

At last Kiyi's eyes flutter completely open and with renewed energy she bounces out of his hold and rushes to the window. "I've been waiting a long time to go outside! I want to explore the jungle." She declares and Azula realizes what torture it must have been for Kiyi to constantly stare at such a lush view without being able to experience it. "You'll let me do it right?" She looks at Ursa.

"You need to rest, Kiyi!" Ursa replies.

"She has had plenty of that." Azula points out. "She'll be fine, trust me."

"But exploring a jungle?" Ursa argues. "I don't think so. Not yet."

"I can do it." Kiyi crosses her arms.

As the two go back and forth, Zuko looks at his sister. "You saved her. You really saved her."

"Well of course." Azula says with all the haughtiness that he is used to. Her tone grows more serious. "Did you really think I was just going to let her die? So far no one who has come to me for help has. Of course I wasn't going to let another family member die."

Without so much as a warning, Zuko squeezes her in an embrace. "Alright Zu-Zu, enough of this sappy crap." She pulls herself away, leaving Zuko to awkwardly rub the back of his head.

"We can all go to the beach." Azula hears Katara suggest. Thus the argument comes to a close, both Ursa and Kiyi can settle for that.

"Are you up for some more water?" Azula asks Kho-Nhm.

He shrugs. "I'm not scared of water."

.oOo.

Azula watches the others joyfully wander the beach. Kiyi and Kho-Nhm chatter endlessly about similar interests they share and swap tales of the few adventures they have already been on in their short lives. She hears Kho-Nhm snicker at the edgy mental image of Azula dressed in all black and kidnapping children with a band of women with odd hair styles and colors. "Did you shave your head too mom?" She hears him call from across the beach. She pretends like she didn't hear the remark and Zuko's chuckles. She watches Katara string a few shells into a bracelet and offer it to her mother. But Azula can't bring herself to join the festivities. This close to the water makes Kurlok's absence that much more potent. She can't fathom how Kho-Nhm isn't affected by it. She considers him blessed.

Silently, Azula slips away—walking the beach until her family appears as simple specks on the horizon. The stretch of beach she walks along is barren and lonely, but she wants it no other way. The waves rise up to claim her footprints as she lays them down. She finds it difficult to remember such gentle waves crashing so hostilely. These calms waters can't possibly be the same waters that dragged she and her son under and stole her husband away. She wraps her arms around herself and frowns at the sea.

She doesn't hear the footsteps as they approach. "Rough day?"

"Sort of." Azula answers, her somber gaze still fixed on the open ocean. The voice doesn't quite connect with her yet.

"I had a rough week, myself." Laughs the man. "Hoto's boat was ripped to shreds and I had to walk all the way back here. Hoto got his fish and made _his_ way home pretty easily."

At last it registers. Azula turns around and throws herself into his arms. The sea has given him back. "I saved her, Kurlok."

"I thought you were having a rough week."

"I saved her after I almost lost Kho." Azula adds. "And I thought you were dead. But you're back."

"All is well then." Kurlok replies. He lifts her off of the ground and carries her back to the beach. The reach the others as the sun begins to set. By now other beach goers line the shore and they have to scope out their family.

Azula smells some kind of meat cooking in a newly crafted firepit. The beach is full of life; people are abuzz with discussions of how much cleaning have left to do and how they choose to blow it off. Someone brought a drum and is showing it off to a small crowd. In the midst of everything, Azula has forgotten that, that night marked the end of summer and with it comes a celebration. She now welcomes the festivity, as it befits Kurlok's return.

Someone lights a firework and her eyes follow it up the sky, observing it pop and splash sparks in the air. The display is premature and she hopes that they won't use all of them up before dark. Kurlok finally spots Kho-Nhm; he and Kiyi are well into an intense kuai ball match. While Zuko and Katara cheer, Ursa wears a look of motherly horror.

"You should have just let her explore the jungle." Azula takes a seat next to her.

Ursa sighs, "I suppose it doesn't matter, she seems to be doing fine."

Kiyi scores her team a point. "More than fine, I'd say." Azula shrugs.

"When did he get back?" Zuko asks.

"A few minutes ago." Azula replies.

"Want a drink?" Zuko offers. "Mango and coconut, I made it myself and it's surprisingly tasty."

Taking it as a sort of peace offering, Azula accepts the drink even though she doesn't particularly like mango. She notices Kurlok lay himself out on the sand and curls up next to him. He drapes his arm over her hip and with his free hand tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. With the sky now effectively dark, the fireworks flare up. But Kurlok's gaze doesn't leave Azula's eyes, apparently the reflect the fireworks well enough.

"So, are you going to come home with us?" Zuko asks.

"Zu-Zu, I am home." Her expression is soft and genuine. "They want me here. They built a house for me."

"Believe it or not, we want you too." Zuko motions to Kiyi and Ursa. "I think even Katara has a soft spot for you."

"I might." Katara utters under her breath.

"Then come visit us, Zuko." Azula offers. "You can go home and play Fire Lord for a while. When you get tired of that you can stop by and enjoy the simple pleasures. Nice as the palace is, I like it here. The capital is very…routine, same thing every day. This village always has surprises."

"I see." Zuko replies. "Well, I'm glad you like it, really I am." He is pleased to realize that he is happy for her. Whatever residue of bitter was in him days before, seems to be gone now. He wants Azula to feel the same content that he has felt since the comet had blazed through. "We both found where we're supposed to be, I guess."

"Yes." Azula agrees.

"Do they know?" Zuko asks.

"Hmm?"

"That you're the princess?"

"I haven't told anyone, if that's what you mean. I'm sure some people have figured it out though."

"I guess that makes things…simpler." Zuko replies. In his head, he is already working out when he can possibly come back. He knows that Iroh would love Azula's new house.

"It does." Azula confirms. "I find that to be more suitable for me." She places her hands behind her head.

It finally sets in, she is satisfied. Completely so. With where she is and the woman she has become. With Kiyi healthy and full of energy, she has finally resolved the last thing in her life that needed resolving. In Kurlok's embrace and in the company of people who have seen the best in her—people who don't fear her she is well. She watches Kho-Nhm finally score a point. Just as they had some years ago in the frameworks of their home, she and Kurlok peer up at a vast sky full dazzling stars. Azula swears that she can make out the body of a koi painted into the sky by a cluster of stars.

She quietly thanks it for all it has done.


End file.
